CHAPTER SEVEN
The library at Raith Manor was, unlike the rest of the house, a room almost fully furnished, with cases filled wall-to-wall with books, and a sturdy oak table that served for a desk.
Two long windows let in plenty of light, and a cheerful fire burned in the grate, flanked by two large chairs, with seats and cushioned patches of leather at both head and arms. In these Raith and his lawyer had settled, once a quantity of papers had been read over and signed.
Raith was conscious of an easing of his inner tension, not entirely due to the happy nature of the business that had brought Ottery. He poured them both Madeira and handed one of the glasses across. Then he stretched his booted legs out and crossed them at the ankles, sighing deeply.
“You must be relieved to have the business settled, my lord,” remarked Ottery, with the smile that always warmed his employer.
“It is so very much needed, Ottery, that I must say I am.”
“Do you really mean to use the substance of your means to bring the place about?”
“You are afraid that it may swallow the whole, I dare say? No, Ottery, I hope by good management to restore the estates into decent repair so that they may pay for themselves again. But I have warned everyone this will take time. We will only put the most urgent of requirements into immediate effect.”
“I am relieved to hear it, sir. What of Longridge? Do you wish me to look about for a new agent, as we discussed?”
Raith made a negative motion. “I am perfectly satisfied Longridge was not to blame for the deteriorations. Indeed, he is obviously delighted to be able to offer better prospects to my tenants. And they trust him, Ottery. I have heard over and again how he tried to halt the decline, or play off the income from those with less to lose against that missing from the poorer element.”
He was glad of Ottery’s approval. “That is good to hear, my lord.”
He was surprised then to see his lawyer drop his gaze to his glass, and turn it, looking at the ruby liquid within. What ailed him? This was unlike Ottery. Had he something on his mind? He was about to question it, when the lawyer forestalled him, looking up.
“What of your marriage, my lord?”
Raith felt a hollow enter his chest. “What of it?”
“Is it satisfactory?”
Eyeing him narrowly, Raith thought he detected a trifle of consciousness in his lawyer’s gaze.
He recalled that Rosina had been speaking to him before he arrived.
He had known Ottery was coming today, for he’d had his letter yesterday.
But she had not known. Raith sat up sharply. “What has she said to you?”
Ottery’s eyebrows rose. “Lady Raith, my lord?”
“Who else? Come, Ottery, I am no fool. My wife is apt to blurt out anything that is in her head and then be sorry for it. She is not, I know well, in good spirits, and you caught her unawares.”
To his consternation, his lawyer gave him a look of rare severity. “Why is she not in good spirits, my lord?”
Raith set down his glass and jerked to his feet, pacing away a little, the unruly beat of his pulse overloud in his own ears. He halted, turning to face Ottery. “Why ask me? It is my fault. You’ve guessed that much.”
“Then why will you not mend it, sir?”
Before this one true friend, Raith could throw off the burden of concealment he had put upon himself in the presence of his wife.
“Would that I knew how, Ottery! Or whether indeed I should.” He came back and re-seated himself, sighing deeply as he took up his glass again.
“My friend, have I made the most terrible mistake?”
The lawyer looked deeply concerned. “I warned you against a too-hasty decision, my lord. You will recollect that you were adamant. If it is a mistake, you can only now rectify it by pursuing your course. As for Miss Charlton — or rather, Lady Raith — I fear her interests are not being served as perhaps they might.”
Raith eyed him. “Your meaning?”
Ottery folded his lips for a moment. “I would not wish to presume upon my position, my lord.”
“By thunder, Ottery, don’t do that! You know how I value both your advice and your friendship. I do not forget what I owe you. Say what you wish to me, but be plain, I beg of you.”
The lawyer set down his glass. “Has she deserved of you such coldness? She does not know, I presume, that you chose her. Above any other.”
“Do you blame me? Only think what the others were like.”
“My lord, you did not select Miss Charlton merely because she was a cut above the rest.”
The lawyer’s tone was gentle, and a bitter laugh escaped Raith. “You see too much, my friend.”
“Yet — your pardon, but you bade me speak plainly — you have not, for want of a better way to say this, taken advantage of your rights.”
Impossible to answer. He could think of nothing to say, so he remained silent. No doubt Ottery would guess from it that he was perfectly right.
“Perhaps,” went on the lawyer, “the lady in the case may be wondering why this does not occur.”
Raith frowned in quick suspicion. “Did she say anything? No, she cannot have spoken of that.” He rubbed his forehead in painful concentration.
“Ottery, there is some mystery. I felt it from the first and, from things she has let fall, I have become convinced that this is so.” He met the lawyer’s eyes.
“She married me for a reason other than the one she gave.”
“So also did you,” Ottery pointed out.
“True, my friend. But I fear my wife’s reason is less palatable than my own.”
It was the first time he had put it into words and it was as far as he could go.
He had left Rosina that night, driven by the depth of his own self-disgust as she struggled to free herself from his grasp.
He had been unable to pursue his need of her, even though she had called out to him.
Her revulsion, as he had then thought, was born purely of her recoil from the ugly blemish of his face.
It was only later that he had, in calmer mood, become slowly convinced of his error.
She had recoiled, but there had been more to it.
He found himself going through the events of that night, in moment-by-moment detail.
Rosina’s first inexplicable terror. The shivering limbs.
The anguish of her utterance: It is not you, Raith.
Who, then, had it been? Whose presence in her bedchamber had been in her mind?
What vile happening had she remembered that caused her to fight against his caresses even before her fingers felt his face?
He had been recalled to his senses — as how could he not be when her fingers fatally touched his cheek?
— and had retreated from her presence. But what if some other man had not retired?
What if he had forced his entry, and sullied the purity of the future Lady Raith?
Rosina was glad to encounter Mr Ottery at the breakfast table on Tuesday morning, for she had been afraid he might leave before she had an opportunity to say farewell.
She had met him at dinner, where, to her chagrin, he was seated opposite herself, and on Raith’s right hand.
Her husband could tolerate his lawyer’s gaze without difficulty.
But his wife was not permitted to look at that side of his face, for fear of her non-existent disgust.
No opportunity had offered for her to be private with Raith, despite the fact he had been home all day since Mr Ottery’s arrival.
Perhaps it was as well, for her emotions towards him were so tangled she felt certain she would only destroy all hope of breaking down his reserve.
He had been a trifle less remote at dinner, not quite thawed, but certainly not as formal.
Not, she dared swear, for any other reason than the presence of his lawyer.
Rosina had chosen to wear the damask grey gown that had served for her wedding, realising only after she came down, and by Mr Ottery’s widening eyes, that it was scarcely appropriate. Her spouse had on a cloth suit of blue, while the lawyer’s usual black had been augmented only by fresh linen.
She had thought, from the way Raith suddenly shifted to the fire a moment after her entrance, that she had angered him.
But his slightly softened manner towards her seemed not to bear it out.
But perhaps Raith had changed only because Mr Ottery took pains to secure her participation in any conversation, an effort for which she had been grateful.
Ottery spoke of the estates as they had been in the time of Raith’s father, recalling his early association with the family. He had taken over the practice from his own parent, pleased to be honoured with the continued trust of most of his father’s clients.
“If he was anything like you, Ottery,” Raith said, smiling, “I am sure the honour was more on our side.”
Ottery disclaimed, and talked of another of his clients, and an acquaintance with Lord Brook of Warwick Castle.
This led to a discussion on the history of Warwick, which lasted until it was time for Rosina to leave them.
She had not gone to the saloon, saying that no doubt they had further business to discuss and she would only be in the way.
The fact that Raith was also at the breakfast table when she entered this morning was not entirely unexpected.
He was dressed in his green riding frock and buckskins, but he would hardly go out before his lawyer had left.
Rosina was instantly conscious of nervousness, for it seemed to her that he regarded her somewhat narrowly as she came to the table.
It turned out both men had finished their meal, and Mr Ottery was upon the point of departure.
Recalling her letter to her nurse, and expecting that Raith would leave immediately after seeing him off, she stopped him as he made for the door.
“A moment, my lord.”
He halted, turning with a slight frown. “Yes, ma’am?”
She was daunted, but said with a little diffidence, “I only wished to ask if you will frank a letter for me, sir.”